Fields of Gold
by l0rdenglish
Summary: A young Auger Brown finds himself at the mercy of his fellow District Nine citizens after he is voted to participate in the first Quarter Quell. Rated T for language and violence. Chapter 3 is up! We see more of Sheave & Auger's stylist is introduced..
1. Fields of Gold

_Ding, ding! _The morning bell chimed through both my ears as I lazily lifted my head and took a look around my room. **"What?"** My voice called out, but the room was empty. Usually, I would have gotten a response. Unlike some of the other districts, our district did not have regular houses for different individuals. We lived in houses that accommodated up to twenty people into small places. Where I lived, however, only fifteen people lived in the small, one room cabin. It wasn't incredibly small, to be honest, but when we are all sprawled out on the floor, I have to admit that things could be a little... crowded. I am the only teenager living here, though, so maybe it makes things a little easier for me. I always found a quiet place to rest my head.

Children and adults are usually cuddled close to each other, but I was alone at night. I'm actually where I usually sleep, in the right corner opposite of the single door connected to the small cabin. We don't have any beds what so ever in this dainty old cabin, which makes it a bit unbearable at times, but... There's something about it that I cling to. My memories, perhaps, are what make this place a home, even though it's more of a cell. I glare down at the sheet over top of my young, frail body and slide it off, folding it neatly and putting it back into my corner before I get up off of the frigid wood flooring. The only other thing in this one room home is a fireplace to keep us warm at night. The fire that was tendered the night before looked as if it were put out, likely by one of the other occupants. Quietly, I take a step out of the cabin and close the thin door. The door looks as if it couldn't take much more, but it still seemed sturdy. Regardless, I was careful with the door before I examined my surroundings.

Next to the small cabin is what I wake up to every morning: a field of golden that I know by heart, that most of everyone in District Nine knows by heart. The field is more of a home to us than the cabins that we stay in. We know more about the fields than we know about the future and the past. I am not excluded. However, I am a lone worker in the fields. Children usually have to be assisted by adults to get around the fields and some adults form groups to help each other harvest grain. I, however, find solace in doing it alone. Taking a look away from the fields that I noticed instantaneously, I glare down below me. Standing in front of me with her eyelids closing and opening rapidly is a little girl who's name I know. In fact, she is an inhabitant of the cabin that I live in and she is my only friend. Besides her, there is no one else in my life that seems to want me. However, the same managed to happen to her. In the cabin, even though she huddles close to the other kids her age, I always manage to be there with my tan skin and warm body to help my 'little sister', as I call her, to feel better. Her name is Cradle.

"**Auger!"** Her pearly white smile is enough to light up a room. It's strange how a girl such as herself can be so happy. She's a lot like me. Neither of us know whom are parents are and neither of us have grown close to a family that has biologically raised us. It's also quite strange that she has such shiny teeth, but I fail to see how this connects to our past.

"**Cradle,"** I smile, reminded of the few times I led her around the fields for fun. I am more of a parent to her than anyone else has ever been. To be honest, some people think that we're related. Like the people of the district, we have naturally tan skin. Me and Cradle have the same hair color, but we also have the same bone structure. We both look frail, though I'm a bit sturdier than she is. However, she's shorter for her age. I stand at a height of five feet, eight inches. Her height barely compares to mine, **"Where did everyone go?"**

"**The plaza,"** She speaks, her voice suddenly falling silent. Right, how could I forget? Her gentle voice speaks again, **"Don't you remember? Today is the day of reaping."**

"**Right,"** It seems that we both fall into a stupor for a couple of seconds just examining each other. There was always something about the reaping that always scared everyone. It was the children, surely, that were going to be fighting in that arena if they were selected. However, today was especially scary for everyone involved.

She seems panicked for a couple of seconds, taking my hand and gripping it, **"Did you vote?"**

The words seem to slip out of her mouth a little too easily, causing me to let go of her hand and pull away. The thought of what was going on is much too real. This year is special compared to every other 'game' that we've had since the war. This year is the first 'Quarter Quell', a special event the marks the date of the Capitol's victory over the districts. And this year... We all must decide who is to die in our district. Naturally, however, I could not vote for another person. I am not a murderer and I refuse to act like a murderer. I gulp, **"No."** The single word that slips out of my mouth is full of emotion and heartbreak and I don't even realize it until Cradle gives me a twisted expression.

"**Oh,"** she utters. Her single word is just as charged as mine. However, she doesn't comment on whether or not she voted. The look in her eyes tell me, however, that she did not. I wasn't aware if there was a regulation for voting, either, because of her young age. She wasn't even able to be reaped yet. However, in another year they could gladly strip her away from me and her 'family'.

"**Why didn't you go with them?"**

"**They told me to stay with you,"** Cradle grins, her face and emotion changing within a second, **"They needed me to tell you to come with them, since they thought you might not... remember."** A smirk forms, and she quickly knows she's 'shown me up'.

"**Alright,"** I grin back at her, chuckling a little bit, **"Am I going to see you there, or are you going to walk through the fields?"** I watch her walk backwards towards the fields of gold as I speak.

"**The fields are our home, Auger. You and I both know that,"** She lets out in a whisper before her voice trails off. She quickly disappears into the field, leaving me to watch the field for a couple of seconds before I begin to move towards the patches of dirt without grass that we call our roads. I walk for a little while before I make it to where I always end up at the reaping; a circle of houses where many people also seem to sell their hand-crafted goods. In the middle, however, a stage has been set. That stage is connected to the Justice Building, which I assume each district has. People have already formed groups. I am one of the last ones to actually walk towards the group of peace keepers and have blood taken from my finger to make this drawing more accurate.

Unlike reapings from the year before, there are two bowls, but each of the bowls have only one slip of paper in them. I glance up at the stage. A man draped over with various shades of different colors, focusing on lighter colors of blue, green, and yellow, stands on the stage in front of a microphone that the peacekeepers put there before for him. Caligula Glitter. His name is much different from all of ours, but his face is very recognizable. He has been the District Nine escort for five years now and he shows no sign of letting up just yet. His flamboyant voice, as fragile as any of the voices I usually hear from someone from District Nine, rings out, **"Attention, attention!" **He tests the microphone before he gets down to business with his never-ending smile, **"Welcome to the reaping!"** His hand sores out as if he is presenting to an audience a magic trick he has learned.

"**It's great to be here,"** He smiles, looking over the unamused audience that seems more focused on the glass bowls with whom they've selected to become their next tributes, **"... Let's get down to business, shall we?"** He smiles wickedly, walking towards his right and towards the bowl for the female tribute. He reaches in and grabs the single slip, walking back over to the microphone and gripping the small paper in his hands, **"... Sheave Snaith!"** His voice rings through the crowd. A girl who looks a little older than me steps out of the crowd and walks up to the stage. Her grey-toned eyes are what I notice about her, compared to my dark brown. However, she looks very typical for a District Nine citizen besides that single feature. Black hair, tanned skin... However, she doesn't seem to be as beat up as the rest of us. Still, I'd never met her before, not that I could remember.

The terrified girl looks fearful at her oppressors before Caligula moves the girl towards the microphone, **"Hello there, Sheave! Are you glad to be here?"** Caligula keeps his signature Capitol grin. The scared girl grimaces and looks at Caligula, but doesn't speak into the microphone at all. Caligula moves a hand through his well-combed hair as he places the microphone and its stand back on top of the center of the stage, **"Now, for our male tribute!"** Caligula moves his body over to the bowl. Everyone, including myself, shows no fear as he pulls out the slip. He moves back over to the microphone, glaring down at the slip.

"**Auger Brown!"**

Auger... Brown? That could not have been my name, could it? But, it was... I was the only boy in my district with that exact name. A tingling sensation runs through my body and my skin becomes a bit pale from this shock that has run through me. How could anyone vote for me? How could anyone do that to _me_ of all people? They didn't even know me and now... now I was going to die? Another chill swept through my body. But maybe that's why this happened, because I don't know many people, because I don't care for many people. My preference for being left alone has caused my imminent death, hasn't it? I move towards the stage after moving through the group of people that surrounded me, walking up to the stage alone. Caligula almost seemed annoyed that I was taking so long, but I was taking in all of the faces that I passed. Who voted for me? Who wanted me to die? Who wanted me to be the one that falls? My ears pick up a couple of quiet whispers here and there as I move up on the stage. Apologies, specifically, and no slurs or rude comments. It isn't that they want me dead. It is because they could not choose anyone else. Because they didn't talk to me, because they never noticed me, I am a victim of this reaping.

And now, I am about to prepare for my imminent death as I glance over at the girl opposite to me. Sheave, my District Partner, already seems like my future enemy, but I take in her appearance anyway. By the time that I am led into the justice building, awaiting transportation to the Capitol, my mind has zoned out.

_I am not myself_.


	2. Preparing for Death

_How could anyone vote for me_? My thoughts have turned into gibberish. I've been in here for thirty minutes, sitting and waiting for visitors. But there are none. Why? The question has haunted me while a good while. I, however, have already come up with a conclusion as to why this has happened: any one of them could have been someone who voted for me to take part in this competition, to take part in this pageant. They did not want to be accused by me. That, or they _were_ one of the people that voted for me. They did not have a place for me in their heart or mind, which is why they voted for me.

When I arrived in this room originally, I could not believe my eyes. This single room is different from my entire district in so many ways. Maybe that's why I still can't believe it. How is this room a part of my district? Fabrics I've never seen before line the couch that I'm sitting on and the pillows that sit on each edge of the couch. The curtains are draped with another type of fabric and seem very flamboyant, but still very... regal and royal in appearance. Everything seems so official. Likely, people from the Capitol come here to stay when they are visiting our district. To be honest, this was probably where our escort stayed during the wait for the reaping. He might've enjoyed the fabrics that the couch, pillows, and curtains had and might have even enjoyed the simple style that our district has to offer. Who knows? I certainly don't. Taking another deep breath, similar to the one that I took when I arrived here thirty minutes ago, I rest my head down on one of the couch pillows and look up at the ceiling and at the chandelier overhead. Everything seems out of place in this room, I can't deny that. Or, it seemed out of place until the door began to creak open a little. I didn't expect any visitors. If anything, I expected the Peacekeepers had come to drag me into the train by now. However, that wasn't the case.

Cradle walks into the room with her hands behind her back. Her usual smile is malformed. While she still has her usual smile, it doesn't seem as genuine. It looks as if she is trying to be strong before I have to leave, **"Hello, Auger."** You can tell in her voice that she's trying to be something that she's not, a strong girl. Why? I could tell by the way that she appeared to be, with her young body quivering a little. The way that she flickered her eyes also told me that she was nervous, but I didn't pay attention to that. The only thing that I paid attention to was the way that she spoke to me. Formal. She never spoke formally to me. Like any other eleven year old, she spoke like a child and did not pay attention to the way that she said much of anything. Now, though, she was watching what she said to me.

"**Cradle,"** I lower myself a little to were my knees are right in front of me, my arms spreading wide. Cradle walks over and wraps her tiny arms around my body but quickly lets go, **"Why did you come?"**

"**No one else did,"** She said with a sad expression. Surely, she knows more than just this, but she doesn't seem to be willing to tell me, **"I came to ask you if you want your charm."**

"**Charm? You mean my necklace?"**

Cradle quickly nodded. I didn't think about the necklace until now, but that was probably going to be charm, wasn't it? The one thing that made me stand out from the other people in the arena. Each tribute can have a charm to take with them in the arena, something that reminds them of home. I, myself, have a necklace that works a lot like a locket. A little gear on the side is spun once or twice and it opens to show a picture of a baby and its mother and father. That baby? Yeah, that baby is me. And the man and woman in the photo? Those are my parents. It's sad, however. I never knew about them, I've never even met them and now... I'm going to end up dead, aren't I?

"**Right,"** Cradle whispered, her left hand reaching into her pocket and pulling out the locket. It is something that reminds me of the grain next to my home because of its golden color.

I take the locket into my hand and wrap it around my neck. I turn around and sit down on the floor in front of her, **"Help me out?"**

She smiles childishly, which I pick up from the corner of my eye, and sits behind me, clicking the necklace in place with her tiny fingertips. I whisper a thank you and stare at her, trying to examine her appearance and take it in before I leave. Thoughts enter my mind about what I should say to her, what I could say to make everything alright. However, before I get the chance to say anything, a peacekeeper opens the door and stares at me intently, **"It's time to go."** Cradle leans over and kisses me on the forehead. Soon, just like this morning, she evaporates from my sight by leaving the room and the justice building to go back to the golden fields she knows so well. I wonder, briefly, if she'll cry that I'm gone or if she'll be worried about me at all.

The peacekeeper gestures me to walk towards her. I raise my body up and stand tall as I walk towards the woman, taking the back exit out of the justice building. I walk a little while with the peacekeeper and the girl I'd only seen for a brief moment, Sheave, on a path that leads outside of the plaza and towards the train station that we have in our district for officials and the like. Today, it will be used to transport Sheave and I to our deaths. As soon as we arrive at the train station, I notice the flamboyant Caligula standing in front of the train. He must have been waiting for us this whole time.

"**There you are!"** Caligula smiles, the corners of his lips shooting upwards. His voice seems a little squeaky all of the sudden. He sure does play off the flamboyant look well, **"It's time to go, go, go!"** Sheave almost seems disgruntled by the way he speaks and acts, but I, for one, do not mind how he acts at all. After all, the way that he was raised in the Capitol must have been much different from how I was raised. Even though we have cultural differences, though, I can almost feel a tinge of disgust running through me just looking at him. It's not like me to be disgusted, but he's from the Capitol. He is one of the people that controls us and now he's acting as if this is fun, as if this is something that isn't important at all. Still... Maybe he means the best for us.

He taps on the train door after spinning on the heel of his shoes, which look like shoes that someone would wear at a party of some sort. Not a party here, no. We are not like the Capitol. The people of District Nine seem more modest and much less flamboyant. The shoes are tall on both ends. I wonder how he even manages to walk. Another tap on the train door and the metallic door opens from the inside, moving inside of a small crevice inside of the train's wall. **"Well, well!"** I hear his voice chime out as he walks inside, ushering me and Sheave in. A woman, whom I do not recognize, is already standing inside of the train as the doors close. She must have gotten here first. Just by looking at her a couple of times, I know who she is. The victor of our district. Though we have had another, this woman is the only victor that is still alive, **"It's nice to see you again, Amawrath."** Amawrath. I remember watching the game that she was in as a child. During her games, she lost a couple of fingers, but her strategy was solid. Using everything that you can as a weapon. Set traps in every known crevice of the arena. She was smart and didn't sustain major injuries minus those fingers that she lost on her left hand.

"**Right, Caligula!"** Amawrath seems to salute the flamboyant male to his own delight. A large smile has appeared on his face again, larger than the one at the reaping, **"And these are my tributes?"** Amawrath seems eager as she leads them out of the first room of the train, which is empty, and into the next. I take in each and every detail of this second room, examining it thoroughly. Like the justice building, it has qualities that are taken from the Capitol and placed into an area it does not belong in.

"**And who are you?" **Amawrath takes an immediate liking to the look on Sheave's face. Dull and expressionless. I wonder what Amawrath had already seen in her that I do not. However, Sheave does not seem to care that Amawrath had just spoke to her. Instead, she shoves past Amawrath, moving over to the window and looking out as the train begins to speed out of the train station. That's when Amawrath sets her focus on me, examining me as I had examined her. Now that she's looking at me, I can tell some things seem to be off with her. First, her complexion is not like mine or anyone else from my district. Her skin is pale, an off-white, which makes me wonder if she's ever been out in the sun harvesting grain like I have. Second, her eyes are a lot like Sheave's. Even though they have a grey tint to them, however, I'm quite sure that they're an off green. She is also a lot taller than me and Sheave are. That might be one of the reasons that she dominated in the arena.

"**Auger,"** I say. Her eyes immediately light up and she gives a gentle smile to me as if she's known me all of her life.

"**It's great to meet you, Auger,"** Her kind personality is very different from the personality that she had when she was in the arena.

"**It's an honor to meet a victor,"** My mouth lets out. The words that I spoke seemed emotionless. I'm not really sure how I feet having to be mentored by someone who murdered other people.

Her expression turns from happy to angry. This is only brief, however, and it twists itself back into place, **"Right..."** Her voice seems to drift off at the end as she leads more over to a table made of glass. That seems to be the theme in this part of the train. Everything was glass, from the tables, to the forks and spoons, to the plates. Or, it looked like glass. However, I know it's not as fragile as it looks as soon as I sit down on a chair I pull out from the single dining table in the room. As if she expected me to say something, she stares at me blankly until she realizes that I'm not going to speak, **"Well?"**

"**Well...what?"**

"**Is there anything that you would like to know?"** You can sense a tinge of fear in her voice because her voice cracks as soon as she finishes the sentence. I know what she's thinking. She probably thinks that I'm ignorant, that I'm unaware of what to do. Well, I am unaware of what to do in the arena when I do get there. But I know I have to ask questions sometime. I just... I wasn't expecting to need to ask questions just yet, **"About how to survive?"**

The realization that I will be dead soon runs through me in the form of a pang. I feel my heart beating quickly for just a couple of minutes before it slows down. Averting my attention away from the question, I begin to speak, **"What about her?"** I nod my head towards Sheave as she stares out of the window, glancing at all of the vegetation that we pass before it disappears behind us.

"**She doesn't seem interested."**

"**Right... But, I'm not sure what to ask,"** I say honestly. So many questions form in my mind as another pang runs through me, causing me a bit of distress on the inside. It's a good skill of mine, though, the fact that I can hide my emotions so easily even though I have so many, **"In fact, I don't even know what the arena is going to be. How can I ask you for advice if I'm not even sure if I'm going to be in a place that suits me-"**

"**Don't say that, darling!"** Caligula, who has apparently mixed a drink while I wasn't looking, walks over and moves a glass seat out from under the table, sitting down and staring at me and my mentor, **"Don't be so negative, lighten up!"**

Amawrath stares at Caligula with an unamused expression, but I stare at him in complete and utter disbelief. What? How could I lighten up? I'm going to die soon and he expects me to lighten up? As if that were possible. **"How?" **I don't say anything else besides that one word to Caligula and he stares at me with the exact same expression that I stared at him with. While he stares, I now notice the make up that he wears. You can tell that he wears a lot more make up when you see him up close compared to seeing him stand on the stage every year at the reaping.

"**How? What do you mean... _how_?"** His voice lets out a clamor and his jaw drops open. He raises his hand and waggles his finger around a little bit in front of my face, **"Look at everything that we're giving you, mister! Look at everything that you're receiving! Be happy that you've even been chosen for this opportunity!"** For a second, I almost forgot that the Capitol citizens seem to be more brainwashed than everyone in my district. For that, I simply smile and act as if I'm not offended.

"**Sorry, I wasn't thinking clearly."**

"**No, no you weren't! But I forgive you."**

It takes all that I am not to give him a contorted face as he takes a sip of his drink. I turn back to look at Amawrath who is staring at me intently instead of Caligula. She seems impressed with the way I just handled him. Me and her begin to start a lengthy conversation about hunting, about surviving, and about the other tributes that were voted to take part in the first Quarter Quell. She tells me everything she knows. However, she doesn't talk about combat for one reason or another. Sheave stays at the window for about two hours through our conversation before she moves over to the table where we all have been sitting since the train ride began, **"Where are the beds?"**

Caligula gets up. His glass, full again for the third time, is set down on the table. Caligula walks over to the girl, placing his gloved hand on her back and walking towards the door opposite to us that leads to another train cart, **"Come here, child, this way."** Out of instinct, I smile. Sheave and Caligula are gone and I am left alone with my mentor, Amawrath.

"**What's up with her, do you think?"** I finally obtained the courage to ask what might have been wrong with her. Amawrath seems to know immediately and almost seems hesitant to talk about it, but she speaks her mind anyway after a minute of thought.

"**She's the mayor's daughter. I think she assumed she had... immunity."**

"**What?"** That must've been why she was so quiet and why I did not recognize her. While she was probably a prominent figure to others, she was nothing to me. I never paid attention to the mayor and his family. Now that I think about it, that's probably why she was here, because she is the mayor's daughter. Were people that eager to call her off just because she has a better life than everyone else? Apparently so. To be honest, I actually feel quite bad for her now. When I first looked at her, I saw a future enemy in her because of the way that she acted. Could her personality actually be a facade of hurt and pain? Looking at her will never be the same because of what I now think. She's not the stone cold girl that I thought she was. Instead, she's a living, breathing human being who has it worse off than I have it. She might have a loving family, but an entire district turned against her with reason.

Looking back on it now, I didn't hear any apologies as she walked through the crowd of people. Friends, strangers, enemies... They all turned on her because she has a better life than the rest of us have. Knowing that, guilt builds up inside of me. I'm proud that I did not vote. That doesn't mean I don't feel sorry for the girl that I was going to have to try and make an effort to get to know before the games begin. Like me, she's likely to soon become a memory. As my thoughts progressed, so did our conversation about Sheave and about how to survive continued. Eventually, Sheave, waking up from an hour long nap, takes the time to sit down, get some food, and listen to what we have to say even though it was obvious that she had nothing to say what so ever. Our escort, Caligula, was likely taking some time to sleep to enhance his 'beauty' as the train traveled into the Capitol.


	3. Arrival

We're arriving. My immediate thought is to hide, to run... To not be here any longer. However, because I can't do that, my heart begins to beat faster and faster. My mentor has a look of calm washing over her while my face flushes with a red color. As we arrive, Sheave, who still has not spoken to me or our mentor, gets up from her glass seat and watches the train pull through a train station that we have never seen before. My immediate thought is that we have arrived at our destination. Next to the trains, a group of odd people have lined up and our cheering for us. By this point, I have also moved next to the window, watching the people cheering.

They all look very similar to our escort with wide assortments of colors and weird clothing that a District Nine would never be caught wearing. We have always been simple because of where we come from and how we are raised. Unlike the people of the Capitol, we have never lived on large amounts of money. Sometimes, people starve to death because they do not have enough food in our district. Just looking at these people, I could tell everyone was, at least to some extent, wealthy. If they could afford the clothes that they wore, they were likely to be able to afford food and water as well. It's strange how we are so closely related, but how we are also so different. How could a war change people this much? I can feel another hint of disgust running through me like I did when I talked to Caligula. Well, no, it was more like a pang. Sharp emotion ran through my mind. I couldn't help, though, but to smile at them as the train slowed down to a halt, watching their every move.

On a creepier note, the way that these people look at me is not a look of evil. It is something that I noticed when I finally walked up to the window, leaving my mentor behind at the table. The looks on their faces are not full of malice like I thought they would be. Instead, of the people of the Capitol seem to love just having me in their presence. Maybe it is the curse of being a Capitol citizen, but I'm not sure why they want to have me here in the first place if I am just destined to die. Are they celebrating the life that I have had? Maybe they're celebrating my upcoming death. The more that I stare at these people, the more that I realize that some of them have their style inspired by my reaping. Some of the people noticed the simplistic designs that me and Sheave wore at the reaping. However, their perception of the reaping is much different from reality. While the clothes Sheave and I wore to the reaping were simple, the clothes they chose are much different and only by a fraction even seem to be inspired by our reaping.

"**Cool,"** Sheave said, raising her hand to the glass and pressing her hand up against it. That was the first word that she spoke since being reaped. From the looks of it, she also smiled for a second or two before it fell flat.

"**Cool?"**

"**Yeah,"** She said calmly and bluntly, looking at the crowd of people that were in front of the train, shouting out our names in some sort of unison, **"It's amazing."**

It takes me a moment to realize what she means, but I think I understand the general gist of why she thinks this is cool. We are different, I've thought about that so many times before. However, we are all people. I think that she means that we are all equal even though they are dominating us for the games. I think that she thinks that this is cool because... everything is different from what she is used to. She has never been to the Capitol until now and now that she's here... Maybe she is intent on enjoying something that she has never experienced before. It makes sense considering that we have lived in District Nine our entire lives, wondering what the other districts were like. In this case, we were now technically in the Capitol. The Capitol was always said to be the most beautiful place in Panem and to be honest, I can not deny that from the looks of it, it is. However, I can't help but think of the look of disgust that she gave Caligula before. Was it just at Caligula specifically, or the entire Capitol like I thought? Either way, I quickly go back to my thoughts and back to the appearance of the Capitol which I'm now beginning to see as a beautiful place.

There is definitely a reason that that call it the most beautiful place of Panem. Minus all of the garish and strange clothing that people wear, the buildings are beautifully constructed and very tall. Everything seems out of place, yet it also seems as if it belongs at the same time. The buildings do not match the coloring of the peoples' clothing and skin, either. Instead, the buildings and walkways all look very similar to one another. A grey-white color is what plasters both. It makes the color of the citizens stand out that much more against the white. Suddenly, Caligula comes up to our side with a big grin, **"We're here, we're here, we're here!"** His annoying Capitol accent shows, but I don't act agitated in the least. Instead, I smile and turn towards him.

"**What's next?"** I speak bluntly and to the point. There is no reason to talk to him about anything else but the trip itself.

"**Well, next, we get you ready!"**

"**Ready for what, exactly?"**

"**The chariots, of course!"**

Right, the chariots. Sheave looks at him with a large smile on her face, **"Does that mean we'll be dressed up like them?"** She points her finger at the window and to the people cheering for the both of us.

"**Right-io!"**

I take a moment to examine Sheave again. Caligula seems excited that Sheave is finally talking to all of us and Sheave seems... different from how I thought she was going to be. I expected her to have a rude, cold personality and now she seems childish because of her actions. She seemed as ignorant as those Capitol citizens out there, cheering for the both of us. Maybe being the mayor's daughter also meant that you were sheltered from the world. She wanted to play this game of dress up and I am simply neutral on the subject, **"Yay."** The way she speaks is still strange, however. It's as if you are hearing a baby or a child saying its first words. Her comprehension was nonsensical. She reminded me a lot of Cradle back home even though she wasn't really overly enthusiastic about everything. In fact, she had only made herself seem a little enthusiastic because of the way that she reacted to the connotation that we are going to be dressed up. **"When do we leave, Caligula?"** Even though her voice definitely does not sound excited, I can still tell that she is. Amawrath finally gets up from the table and joins us.

"**We leave in a couple of minutes. We have to wait for the peacekeepers to make a space for us to be able to get out and we walk to the building where you will post meet your stylists."**

Caligula nods in agreement with Amawrath and Sheave's face lights up with a smile yet again.

"**Who's our stylist?"** I finally ask a question for the first time in thirty minutes, looking over at the both of them intently.

"**You both get separate stylists, actually. Yours is Iunius Atlas!"**

"**Iunius? He sounds familiar,"** I exclaim, feeling as if I've heard the name before. Why, though, have I heard this name before? It takes me a second to realize that he was a stylist last year, but not for our district. Last year, he was the stylist for District One. He was probably transferred to District Nine to try and make the District Nine style a little better. Every year before, we were either dressed as crops or as farmers. Hopefully, this new stylist would give us a bit of style. From what I understand about the games, the chariots are a big part of the games. They can determine whether you live or die due to the amount of sponsors that watch them.

"**You are both very lucky. You both have two well known stylists!"** Sheave doesn't bother asking the name of hers because she's quite convinced that we're both going to end up in ridiculous costumes. Either way, she believes she'll enjoy the feeling of dressing up for an audience and I can tell that by the expression that she gives Caligus and Amawrath. I, however, just keep a modest smile as Caligus begins to walk back towards the cart that we entered when we first saw the train. We are ushered with my mentor out of the train after a peacekeeper clears the way for us, allowing for me to get a better view of the Capitol citizens. As I walk along our predetermined path, I also watch Sheave, who is in front of me, drag her hands across the line of people, as if she were gesturing to them that she is one of them and not a District Nine citizen. I simply stare and nod as we are led to a strange building that seems a little different from the rest of the buildings, at least from what I've seen. The building that we are led into is different because it seems a little more normal. Yes, it's still painted over with white, but the building itself is small and not ten stories tall or more like the rest of them. We are both led to individual areas separated only by what look to be hospital curtains. From what I assume, she will probably undergo similar things to me. First, a group of three comes and examines me as I lay flat on a table that seems to be behind every one of the curtains, likely for each of the tributes. I am dressed in only what a hospital patient would wear, a typical gown with nothing else underneath.

It only takes one look at me for them to begin to strip me of all of the hair that I have on my body from my face to my legs. They also make sure to make my skin look unnaturally moist so that I glisten under the light above and that my face seems symmetrical behind a thick layer of make up that they have applied. It takes a total of three hours before they are complete. After that, they begin to wheel the table off to another room that is private from everyone else. This is where they leave me before a man, only three minutes later, walks in. **"Who are you?"** I think to ask as quickly as possible before he walks over to me.

"**Iunius Atlas,"** he responds, wheeling his chair over to me and examining me for a brief time, making sure that I was fine tuned. While he was looking at me, I examined him. I seem to examine everyone that I come in contact with, but Iunius had a unique style that I just could not stop staring at, **"And you're Auger Brown."**

"**That's right,"** I act as tough as I possibly can in front of Iunius, trying to give him the impression that I am fit for this, ready for this, when inside I am nothing but a broken boy that has been betrayed by his district. However, he doesn't buy it. The way that he raises his eyebrows makes this obvious, **"Now, what are we doing for the chariots?"**

"**Slow down a bit, I haven't planned that yet. But, judging from your... appearance,"** He takes another second to examine me, **"We could go with something a little less typical, don't you think?"**

"**What do you mean?"**

"**I think I want to use... gold. And maybe I could dye your hair as well... We'll see,"** The way that he speaks freaks me out, if only a little. He sounds very vague in everything that he says. The more I look at him, the more I notice how he doesn't look like the other Capitol citizens. He is of higher fashion than them, likely. He has a wide variety of colors in his wardrobe, definitely, but he also places them so neatly and so beautifully on his body that he doesn't even really look human at first glance. He looks like a walking, talking texture. His skin looks as if it were inspired by District Eight because of how strange it looks. His skin looks more like clothing than the clothing that he has on.

"**Gold because of... grain?"**

"**Right."**

"**Did you research District Nine?"**

"**I traveled there, yes."**

He traveled there? A part of me wants to ask why I didn't see him there, but I don't say a thing, **"Oh. Did you enjoy it?"**

"**Sure,"** He almost seems sarcastic in the way that he speaks, but he really is trying to spare my feelings. Or, that's what I'm getting from him, **"I liked the fields the most."**

"**Why?"**

"**The color of the grain. That's why I want to use gold. Gold skin dye would be perfect for your chariot ride."**

He seems to be quite aware of the fields of our district which causes me to smile without me noticing what so ever for a minute. The smile was completely out of instinct. It's strange. I usually never smile like that, but the feeling that someone knows about the beautiful fields of grain... Well, it makes me feel a little... different. A Capitol citizen actually took the time to examine the fields. Even though he might not have liked my district as a whole, he still loved the one thing that unified all of the District Nine citizens. **"That is the most important thing in our district,"** I muster out, keeping our eyes locked, **"Thank you."** For a moment, I have a feeling that Iunius has the best intentions for me and that he intends on helping me through this. Or, well, at least through the chariot ride and the interview that I have to do.

"**No,"** He exclaims, looking at me, **"Thank you for being an inspiration to my work."**


	4. Preparation

It seemed like the longest time, the wait for the golden body dye. In truth, however, he had only taken a couple of minutes to actually obtain the golden body dye from his accomplices. When he comes back into the room, he grabs something from his pocket; a syringe full of a golden substance. This entire time I had been thinking about how he was even going to be able to dye my skin. Can something like that small syringe he held in his hand cause my entire body to chance colors? Apparently so. As soon as he pulled out the syringe, he quickly gripped my arm and stuck it into one of the many veins that ran down to my hand. It only took a few seconds for the gold dye to begin to take effect, each of my skin pigments beginning to slowly change. In those few seconds, I changed from tan to gold to the point where light reflected off of me. I looked like a walking statue. **"Perfect,"** he commented while looking me over. He took another moment out of his time to walk out of the room and hand me two articles of clothing. Golden underwear which I neatly slipped on after sitting up on the table, allowing myself to finally take off the gown that his prep team had forced me to put on over my body. The second article, however, was different.

"**What is that?"**

"**It's a surprise. Your mentor thought it would be a good idea."**

"**I wasn't aware that Amawrath or anyone else for that matter was helping you out with my costume. Well, besides your prep team,"** I comment, looking over what he had given me. No, not a shirt, but what looked to be a backpack. However, I can tell that it doesn't have much in it the moment that I put the straps around my shoulders. The backpack, that happened to be opened at the top, is just as gold as my skin is and blends perfectly with my body. What Iunius does next is pull something else out of his pocket. This time, he pulls out a small tube of gel which he spreads over my hair, causing it to turn gold and blend in with my skin. However, my hair seems to glisten more than my body does.

"**Oh, trust me. I get a lot of extra help."**

"**Is... there a mirror in here?"** I ask in a coy tone of voice, looking around. From what I see, there aren't any mirrors anywhere in this room.

"**Yes, there is."**

"**Wait, where?"**

He gives a smile as if he's heard the context before, getting up from his seat and walking over to the wall across the room. I get up and walk over with him. His fingertips gently press down on the wall, revealing a mirror as the white wall slowly slides into the wall closest to it to its right. I slowly rose from where I was sitting, moseying over to the mirror and looking at what I had become. I look like them now, covered head to toe in something that just isn't me. It is much different from anything that I've ever worn in my entire life, but I still find beauty in the costume even though I'm not a fan of it. I gently reach my hand over towards the mirror and run my fingertips across the mirror as if there is something for me on the other side. **"Wow,"** It's all I'm able to muster, glancing at what is apparently me.

"**So you like it..."** His voice slithers out like a snake, dragging on before abruptly stopping.

"**I... I do,"** I lie through my teeth. Although it's beautiful, there is nothing I can do to change the fact that I simply do not like being something that I am not. Although I hold no hatred for the Capitol citizens, I do not want to play dress up for them by dressing like they do. To me, it's wrong to do this. However, since I can not object to them treating me this way, I do not decide to explain my discontent with the outfit. Still, I can't help but think of Sheave. Sheave was immediately taken by the Capitol fashion and how they looked. They were cheering for us at the beginning and Sheave just smiled while running her hand through the crowd. For a moment, she seemed innocent and free. Still, she succumbed to the Capitol fashion in mere seconds. I wonder, briefly, how she can find this beautiful. I do not consider this a costume at all. While it may be called a costume, it is not hiding who I am. They are trying to replace me using this uniform, they are trying to silence me. They must not want the Capitol citizens to see me as I really am, a starving boy from District Nine who has to live off of small portions of food to live. Yet, by turning me into something that I am not, the Capitol citizens have no idea of my former life in District Nine and what my life held for me back there. Now, they will see me as one of them in just an hour and I can't do a single thing to change that, **"But it's not..."** That's where I stop. I stop myself from saying anything else to my stylist who I am supposed to respect and enjoy being around. He is one of my lifelines.

"**It's not... what?"**

"**... Forget it,"** I shrug it off, looking towards him and faking a smile along with my happiness, **"Should we... get going now?"**

"**... Give me a second,"** He said with a strange tone of voice, examining me again. Of course. He had to make sure that each and every detail looked good on me, **"Alright, we can leave."** That is when I am led to a long hallway compromising of the rest of the tributes, ready to enter their chariots.


	5. Chariots

After being escorted to the long hallway with all of the tributes loading up on their chariots, I took a look around while I still could. There wasn't much time for me to look at the Capitol because of all of the rush. Every minute, we are rushed to do things to help my outcome in the arena and I can't help but think that we need to stop and smell the roses every once in a while. Even though I still don't have much of an opinion on the Capitol citizens, it's still nice to look at everything that they have created. It would be a shame to let this opportunity go to waste just because the people that are against us happen to also be from this place. My eyes, however, were also distracted by something else. A couple of the tributes that happen to be loading themselves up onto their chariots also shoot me strange glances. Have they already branded me as an enemy? It's hard to tell, but it looks as if they're staring at not just me, but the rest of the tributes. **"Those are the careers,"** I can hear Amawrath coming up behind me and pointing them out.

"**Is that why they're staring?"**

"**Yep, they're already trying to get to know you."**

"**How can they know what I'm like if they get one look?"**

"**Oh, no. They're just looking for an easy target."**

"**But the game... It hasn't even started yet."**

"**For them, the game started a long time ago."**

It only takes me a minute to understand what Amawrath could mean. My mind seemed boggled, but I wasn't. Almost instantaneously, I realize that she means that the careers are more brutal than I am; more strong. To them, the rest of the tributes are lunch meat because they do not have the training that they have. I, myself, might have some potential because of my occupation in District Nine. However, tributes from districts like eight and five are very weak compared to them. Tributes from those districts have likely been working in factories their entire lives and may not be used to being outside all that much. What could a District Eight tribute do? Knit someone to death? I, however, have some useful skills that I can use in the arena. Basic plant identification, for one, because of the long hours I spend outdoors and in the fields. Or, spent. I am still adamant on the fact that I will likely die, but I have yet to know. Maybe the odds will be in my favor this year.

Spinning around, I take a glance at Amawrath, **"You're right."** I agree with her, about to talk to her about the careers to see if she knows anything about them at all, but a familiar figure begins to walk towards me from behind Amawrath. **"Sheave?"** I say, instinctively, looking at the girl as she approaches. Covered head to toe, like me, in golden body dye along with golden underwear and golden hair dye to blend in with her skin was Sheave. Unlike me, she seems a little happy to be someone that she's not; to be pretending. I, however, seem phased by the fact that she's standing there nonchalantly, allowing these people to turn her into something that she is not. Or, maybe she is just being who she is. She is fascinated by everything Capitol. To her, even their way of life is interesting. While it is, I'm not happily consuming everything that I've taken in.

Something else I notice, however, is her complete lack of a back pack like the one that I have around my shoulders. It's supposed to blend in with the skin of the person whom is wearing it, but she doesn't seem to have one at all. How strange. Is this backpack specifically meant only for me? I'll find out soon enough. **"You look... stunning,"** I prod, wondering what I could actually say to her. She is a beautiful girl, but I prefer her appearance behind all of the make up, glitz, and glamour better.

"**Thanks, Auger!"** Her eyes light up like the moon and I finally see something familiar. It's a haunting presence that I see. It's dark, but childish and innocent all the time. Even though the girl is a year older than me, a chill goes down my spine. Comparing her to Cradle just became easier. I am filled with another realization: she's completely oblivious of the world. She accepted my compliment without hesitation. She may have thought that she was immune from the reaping, but now that she is here she seems very glad to have been reaped in the first place. Poor child.

Amawrath chimes into the conversation, **"Are you ready, you two?"**

I quickly respond, **"Give me a second."** My eyes flicker across the hallway. I can barely hear Amawrath respond to me.

"**I'll see you both in thirty minutes on the other side."** Amawrath walks away as calm as can be, entering one of the doors in the hallway. Likely, she was going to walk across the seating arrangement where people would be cheering for us to get to where the mentors and stylists were going to meet up with us at the end.

Sheave, however, seems ready and willing to get on the chariot already. I didn't notice that she was looking at me as I examined the hallway again, watching the first pair of tributes load into their chariot.

"**Is there something wrong?"**

Did she just ask me if I was alright? I turn and look at her in disbelief**. **I'm not sure what the say, but I give her a smile that seems a little whimsical and examine again, is there something wrong? Yes and no. This is a strange experience for me and so new, but she acts as if this is something that she has done before; something that she is used to.

"**It's... just a lot to take in."**

We both fell silent for a moment as the second pair of tributes ride out into the narrow space with all of the Capitol citizens clapping and cheering for them. We still have a ways to go before we actually have to go out there, but I wonder, if only for a second, whether I'm ready for this journey. After all, it's only one step closer to my death, isn't it?

"**What do you mean, Auger?"** Her voice calls out to me as I stare at the exit that the chariots are supposed to go through.

"**You should know."**

"**But I don't."**

I could simply excuse her from this conversation if I want to, but I don't. I am aware that she is ignorant, but I feel as if that does not make a difference, **"But you should."**

She looks as if she contemplates this for a second, seeming a little distressed, **"But I don't, Auger."** I glare at her intensely.

"**Don't you find this a little weird, Sheave?"**

"**What?"**

"**The Capitol, the dressing up, the people... Isn't this strange to you?"**

"**How can it be strange?"**

"**I don't follow what you're saying, Sheave. How _isn't_ it strange?"**

It takes a second for her to respond, **"Because they're like us."**

It takes all that I have inside of me, in my soul, to not get angry with her. How are they like the people of District Nine or any other district for that matter? **"They maim and kill us, Sheave! They do whatever it takes to kill us and they show us no mercy."**

"**What?"** My stare only intensifies as she says the word again, **"That's not true, Auger."**

"**Yes, it is. They sit on their asses during games and watch us die. They sponsor their favourite tributes to kill their least favorite tributes. All of it is a game to them."**

"**No, it's not!"** I can see tears welling up in her eyes, **"Do you think they have any other choice besides this? What else could they do, Auger? Even if they did care, what the hell could they do about the games? They've been raised in a society that teaches that it is alright to watch kids die in an arena for their sake! They're just as brainwashed as all of us."**

"**I know they're brai-"** My speech dwindles because she continues speaking to me, yelling at me with all of the force that she might have.

"**Do you, Auger? Have you ever stopped to think about it?"** No, I haven't. I've never stopped to think about it. A pang runs through me like an arrow to the heart. Suddenly, I look hurt, **"You're acting like they don't care, Auger. If they didn't care, they would never send sponsors to some of the tributes! You said it yourself, they like to sponsor tributes that they like. If they like a tribute, they care about them. These people aren't different from you and me because they have people they care about to! We wouldn't send children into an arena, no, but are they the ones in charge of the country? No. A man named Cornelius Snow is the President of Panem, not them. Stop making them all out to be villains, Auger."** She moves over to her side of the chariot and climbs in. I didn't even notice while we were talking that we were the two tributes that were supposed to go next, but Sheave surely did. While she climbed on top of the chariot, she hid her anger well behind a smile, as did I. No, actually. My anger wasn't actually anger. It was embarrassment; embarrassment from yet another realization. She was right about what she said to me, right about everything. While they are our enemy, they are not the villains that we make them out to be. I have always been aware that they are brainwashed, every single one of them, but... I have never taken the time to analyze it or to logically think about it. Sheave, however, is the one who helped me come to this sudden realization. Until now, I thought that she was completely ignorant of the world around her. Maybe, however, she's more dangerous than she lets off. I can't be sure until we're fighting to the death. I take one final look around and muster an apology to her as I board the chariot.

Even though she still seems angry, she accepts the apology and the chariot begins to move forward and out of the building. Instantaneously, I can see swarms of people in their seats beginning to cheer for us as they had cheered for the tributes that went before us. Some of the pairs of tributes are already gathered around the area, in a circle, where President Snow is standing. In his young age, President Snow is one of the healthiest officials in Panem. He looks to be twenty, but with all of the make up and surgeries that the citizens of Panem wear, I wouldn't be surprised if he is actually older. As our chariot moves forward, I look at my District Partner. Yes, she's still mad, but she happens to be waving at the Capitol citizens, something that I have yet to do. My hand shoots straight up into the air, and as if on cue, my backpack begins to move. Triggered by movement? How clever. For a moment, I am frightened by the movement in my backpack, until it actually activates. Raining down upon us, coming from what felt like a miniature explosion inside of the backpack, is golden glitter that showers not only us, but the area around us and even the Capitol citizens in the front row that happen to be watching. **"Did you know about that?"**

Sheave smiles, watching the glitter float down to the both of us and into the crowd of Capitol citizens. Occasionally, she catches some in between her finger tips and looks at it wistfully while she waves, **"I actually had no idea what it was going to do."** The boom of gold glitter had actually exceeded my expectations. I can already see some of the Capitol citizens looking at me in Sheave in wonder about my stylist's choice. However, something occurs to me. Because of this beautiful display, I am now a threat to everyone. Public enemy number one. Why? Because it's likely that I might actually have a sponsor or two in the arena, a sponsor that might have been sponsoring someone else originally. Now must be when the games start for real. Everything that I do will be important from here on out.

In no time, the chariots are all lined up around the Capitol circle where President Snow stands in front of his pedestal. **"Welcome, tributes!"** Preparing for the small speech that I hear every Hunger Games from here, except this time in person, I stare at him dauntlessly, **"We salute your courage and your sacrifice. And we wish you happy Hunger Games and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour!"** Up close, he is exactly like he looks like on TV and his voice is louder than any other voice I have ever heard. The chariots begin to move before I begin to think too much about it and all of the tributes are soon wheeled by our horses into a building just past the Capitol circle. All of the tributes, including myself and Sheave, get off of our chariots and our greeted by our stylists. Most others have their mentors, but mine and Sheave's stylists are the only people that come to greet us. Sheave moves over to talk to her stylist, who I recognize by her long eyelashes and her actually normal-toned skin. However, her name escapes me. However, Iunius brings me over to the side of the chariot that I have just rode in.

"**Nice performance out there, Auger."**

"**Thanks, Iunius. I couldn't have done any of that without you, you know. That was a really great design. And the glitter... I think it won over the Capitol citizens,"** I smiled, refraining from actually complimenting some of the style that he gave me simply because of my preconceived notions of the Capitol and its residents, but anyone could tell that I am now trying to keep an open mind about all of this after my own district partner argued with me about it, **"Where's Amawrath?"**

"**She decided that she didn't want to come. She has some things to do, like preparing your room."**

"**And Caligula?"**

"**He's doing the same. He's trying to make your trip a very enjoyable one. He wants you to enjoy the next two weeks before you head off into the arena."**

"**Should have figured."**

I stare at him while he speaks, a frown creeping up on my face. It's a serious frown, however, and not sad at all, **"Tomorrow is going to be a **_**big**_** day for you. While I'm not your mentor, I am your stylist. Tomorrow marks the day that you have training sessions with the rest of the tributes, all in the same room. My advice? **_**Get to know the other tributes**_**."**

"**... Why?"**

"**Things that you learn about them might help you a lot in the arena, kid,"** And suddenly, he's taking something out from his pocket, **"Open your hands."**

I move my hands into a cradling position, letting Iunius drop something into both palms. It's my locket, **"How did you..."**

"**I swiped it off of you during our styling session,"** A grin forms on his face. I didn't even notice that it was gone until now and now that I have the locket back, I put the locket around my neck, **"Who are those people?"**

I didn't mind the way that he perceived things or the way that he asked who the people who were forever captured in my locket were. A smile formed, the corners of my mouth edging quietly like a cat prowling to find its prey, **"Those people... They're my parents."** I explain, almost as if I'm about to tell a long story, but I try not to go into too much detail, **"I never knew anything about them. I heard they died after I was born. The people in District Nine, though, don't have connections with family. Kids like me usually live together in cabins and work in the fields for people like you."** If anyone was able to get their hands on basic human history, the people of District Nine are quite like slaves on plantations. We are gathered up into houses and, in a way, forced to work to be able to survive. We are not technically forced to work or even indentured, but not working costs you your life because it's likely that you will be very hungry without the food that workers are able to get. In a district like mine, it's one for one, not all for one or one for all. No one works for others. Children under the age of seven, maybe. When a child hits seven, however, they are eligible to work in the fields.

Iunius seems as if he can't say anything else, but he speaks in good terms anywhom, **"I'm sorry about your folks."**

"**It's alright."**

"**Now, would you like to see your room?"** Iunius offers, watching Sheave walk towards a nearby elevator with her stylist. The elevator opens and Sheave and her stylist walk inside. The elevator whisks them both away, likely to the tenth floor. I take a look at the tributes before I begin walking over to the elevator. A couple of tributes that stand out are the boy from District Six, tall with blond hair that looks slightly unnatural, the careers of District Four that look almost related with their dusty brown hair, freckles, and pale skins, and finally, the District Eight boy because of his youth and his innocence. They must have played off the innocence angle for his costume because they dressed him up as a cherub with a wide variety of textiles complete with a halo floating just off the top of his head. Capitol gadgetry sure can be beautiful. Iunius and I both enter the elevator, allowing him to click the button that would bring us to the tenth floor. Minutes pass and we arrive. As I expected with this floor being completely dedicated to District Nine, the walls are lined with gold and the furniture seems old and mostly wooden. The lights that hang from the ceiling are a mixture of Capitol and District Nine, stylized in the form of grain hanging from the ceiling.

I look stunned. Even though I do not enjoy the Capitol style, I look at the room in levels of astonishment. Admiration, even. The room, just the first one, is more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. Iunius notices this quickly and grabs my hand, leading me out of the first room and into the second. A kitchen. Two avoxes, slaves to the Capitol, stand near the dining table in the large kitchen, ready to serve. Sheave currently sits at the dining table, that happens to be made out of pure gold, eating white meat which resembles fish. Amawrath is on the opposite side, picking the meat off of chicken bones and Caligula is eating a large portion of food in a delicate manner. **"I actually don't want anything,"** I quickly clarify this fact and stare at Iunius before he's about to walk to the table, **"Where are the bedrooms?"**

"**Just past the kitchen,"** Iunius continues his walk to the table to get some of the lovely food that happens to be there, **"Down the hall, the door to your left is your room."**

I trudge down the hallway. I am a little hungry and ready for nourishment, but I don't want to have to eat around everyone else, not now. I know that I need rest. Before I leave to train tomorrow, I will have to eat, but right now the rest that I also happen to need is more important. My body moves into the hallway and I shuffle into the left room that Iunius said was my room. I move my hand, flicking on the light and closing the door behind me, taking in the room. Gold, just like the rest of the rooms, filled this room as well. However, swirls with their tips painted like heads of grain were painted on the walls. From the ceiling hung similar lights to the first room, but in a larger quantity. The lamps also look as if they would move if someone or something touched them. To the right, I see a door leading to my bedroom's bathroom. I've never had my own bathroom before. Before I looked around my bedroom, my first instinct is to go into the bathroom and look at its wonders, which I do. The toilet and the shower are both as golden as can be, but the rest of the room is a dull white to match most of the more official buildings of the Capitol. Taking a walk out, I glance over at the bed. The sheets are, again, golden, much like everything else. The bed looks amazing, to be honest, and very comfortable. This is confirmed when I slip over to the bed, crawling under the sheets that feel soft and warm on my skin. I've been half naked all day, in only my underwear. The backpack that I had on previously had slipped off of my back when I was in the elevator and I never even noticed. An Avox would likely take care of that. I, however, only cared about the pillows and the bed that I lay down on, that I rest on now. Tucking myself in and letting the warmth hit my cold body, from all the exposure that I've gotten today, I simply drift off into a sleep induced dream, letting myself be free for the first time time in almost a day, or what I can consider freedom. I can feel my body beginning to go numb, as if I'm about to lucid dream.

But nothing. My night will be filled with the thoughts inside my head and maybe a single dream. Nothing more, nothing less. No lucidity.


End file.
